


We Are Young

by Jgem87



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jgem87/pseuds/Jgem87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Mockingjay, Pre-Epilogue.  Peeta and Katniss learn how to heal together and that life is worth living.  Carpe Diem, you are only young once.  Based on the prompt of the song 'We Are Young' by fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Young

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkist/gifts).



> Huge thanks to my beta L. She made some great suggestions and helped me to make this fic worth reading. This is my first time writing canon so I hope it works out!

When I finally return from the horrors of the Capitol, I plant primroses along the side of Katniss’ house.  The dirt flies up around my face and soils my clothing.  I don’t care.

 

The door creeks open and my heart quakes in my chest when I see Katniss.  The hijacking still hits me hard at times, throwing me into a frenzy of shiny memories and horrid visions of things that I constantly have to remind myself are ‘not real.’

 

Fortunately, the sight of her does not cause a flashback…this time.  It seems as if the joy of seeing her again has quelled the venom for now.  Instead, I peek up at her while I continue my work.  I’m glad to see her up and about, even though she looks like hell.  Her hair is a knotted mess of clumps, and it looks like she hasn’t bathed in days, or even bothered to change her clothing.  It doesn’t matter though.  It doesn’t matter that she is dirty or that her burn scares far outdo mine.  It only matters that she is alive.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

I tell her the bushes are for her sister, the sweet, innocent Prim that barely got the chance to live.  But really, the flowers are for Katniss, whose innocence was torn to shreds by the evil of President Snow and Alma Coin. 

 

She inspects my work before retiring once more inside the confines of her house.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It takes me a while to work up the nerve to see her again.  In fact, it is Greasy Sae who comes to my house one day, insisting that I join her for breakfast at Katniss’ house.  I am hesitant at first, still not sure if Katniss even wants me around.

 

“I don’t know…what if I have a flashback?”

 

Sae shakes her head sadly.  “Do you love her?”

 

Is she kidding me?  That’s like asking if the sky is blue and the grass is green.  “Yes, even Snow couldn’t steal that away from me.  I was able to overcome the majority of my hijacking, and I still love Katniss…very much.  I just don’t want to harm her in any way.”

 

“She needs you Peeta.  Just be there for her and stop worrying about your flashbacks, you won’t hurt her.”

 

I nod at the old woman and follow her to Katniss’ house.

 

I bring a freshly baked loaf of bread with me, still warm from the oven.  Katniss seems surprised to see me, but she welcomes me inside with Sae.

 

We have my fresh bread with strawberry jam and eggs for breakfast.  Sae tries to engage Katniss in conversation, but the girl mostly just nods, shakes her head, or mumbles a few words with her head down.

 

It pains me to see her like this, so broken, so alone.  I want to help her come back to life, to see her dance, to hear her sing in her angelic voice.  I want to hold her in my arms and comfort her.  I want to let her weep until she has no more tears, until she can be freed from the burdens she carries on her slim shoulders.

 

I want to help her to get better, help her to become the strong woman I know she can be once more.  But more than that, I want to heal with her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Katniss and I decide to fill a book full of memories of those we loved and who had been affected directly or indirectly by the Hunger Games.  It is our way to heal, our way to remember how brave Finnick was, how sweet Rue was, how innocent Prim was and how talented Cinna was.  There are many others in the book as well; it is our way of honoring those that we hold dear in our hearts.

 

Katniss writes beautiful things about each person and then I draw a picture of him or her to go with it.

 

I can tell that writing the stories and facts about our friends is helping Katniss to heal.  Tears sometimes trail their way down her face when she writes or when she sees the drawings I make to accompany each page, but she is stronger. 

 

Her hair is shiny again, glossy and braided like it was before.  Her bony frame is beginning to fill out, blossoming slowly into womanly curves that I long to trace with my fingertips.

 

Her burn marks, like mine, are fading with time.  They still mar her body as a reminder of the war, but they make her even more beautiful, in my opinion.  They show what she has been through, her courage, her strength, and her ultimate ability to come forth and live a new life, free of the Hunger Games and the evil that was Snow and Coin.

 

Seeing Katniss healing brings me so much happiness.  And it isn’t just her body that is beginning to heal, it’s her soul.  She smiles more, causing me to smile as well, and she doesn’t just go through the motions of life anymore, she does her best to enjoy them.

 

She reminds me more and more why I fell in love with her, and I can’t help but to fall deeper than ever before.

 

She places the book down, signifying that we are done for the day.  Usually, this means that I need to leave, that she needs some time to herself to process the emotions that the book brings forth.

 

I get up to leave, but her hand shoots up and grasps my arm.  “Don’t…don’t leave.”

 

I slowly sit back down, and she scoots over so that we are sitting right next to one another, without an inch of space between us. 

 

“Katniss?”  I need to make sure that she wants me here with her, that she is certain of it.

 

Her gray eyes are watery, and I fear that tears will soon start to fall.  “Please Peeta…stay with me.”

 

“Always,” I reply, burying my face into her shoulder as I pull her into my embrace.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Weeks seem to fly by now.  I’m officially living with Katniss at her house.  That day when she asked me to stay with her turned into night and still she asked me to stay.  She recalled how we kept each other’s nightmares at bay during the Victory Tour, and I was only too eager to agree to hold her while she slept, staving off the worst of her bad dreams.

 

The pale light of dawn is just starting to filter though the open window when I awaken.  The sunbeams dance across Katniss’ face, and I wait for her to wake up as well.

 

She doesn’t.  In fact, she barely even stirs as the light brightens.

 

I am unable to stop myself from reaching out and lightly caressing her soft cheek.  It feels like flower petals and when she unconsciously leans into my touch, I become bolder.

 

I trail my fingers up to her forehead and brush away the wisps of hair that threaten to fall into her eyes.  She stirs again, and this time awakens.

 

“Peeta?”

 

My heart seizes in my chest, waiting for the inevitable moment where she gets angry and tells me to leave.

 

“I’m sorry,” I say as I remove my hand from her face and turn away, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

 

I hear the bed sheets rustle as Katniss sits up.  “You don’t have to be sorry.  I enjoy your touch.”

 

Well, this is news to me.  I turn around to face her once again.  “You do?”

 

She blushes, her cheeks tinged a rosy pink.  “Yes.  Maybe…maybe you should do it more often.”

 

Now it is my turn to blush, my face flaming red and my heart thundering loudly inside of my chest.  Did Katniss Everdeen just ask me to touch her?  I want to do more than just touch her.  I want to kiss her.  Her soft cheeks, her slightly chapped lips, her scarred chest, her stomach, and lower… I want to love her.

 

I fumble with the correct words to say to her, but the only thing that comes out is, “where can I touch you?”

 

I grimace as soon as the words leave my mouth, knowing that I’ve probably ruined things for good now.

 

She doesn’t answer me for quite a while, and somehow I find the courage to look up at her.

 

Katniss looks amused, like she can’t quite believe what I said, but her face shows no sign of anger so I’m instantly relieved.  “Umm…what I meant is that you can touch my face like that.  Or, umm…if you want to, you can kiss me.”

 

My heart constricts at her words.  Does she mean it?  Does she want me to kiss her?  My mind tries to sort out exactly what is happening to me when I notice Katniss has turned away from me.

 

“You don’t have to, of course. “

 

I realize then that I have taken too long to answer her, so instead of speaking, I carefully turn her back around to face me, tilt her chin up slightly, and move in to meet her lips with mine.

 

The first touch of our lips is tentative, just a gentle brushing, but that doesn’t stop the maelstrom of emotions and desire from radiating throughout my entire being.  I’m kissing her again.

 

One kiss becomes two, and two becomes three as I deepen the kiss.  Katniss lets out a small groan of pleasure as our tongues meet, and I can’t help but moan in return.  Her hot, wet mouth draws me in, causing light tingles across my body and I grip my hands in her hair to tether myself in the reality of what is happening to me, what is ‘real.’

 

A loud knock at the door causes us to jump away from each other.

 

“I know you two are in there!  Now open up!”

 

Katniss curses under her breath and we both laugh.  Although I am a bit upset by the interruption, I sigh and make my way downstairs.

 

 _Damn you Haymitch_ , is all I can think when I open the door to see our former mentor standing there.

 

“What took you so long?”

 

“None of your business!”

 

He blinks in surprise, but then smiles and pats me on the shoulder.  “About time!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I’m baking some fresh cheese buns one day when Katniss returns home from hunting.  She comes into the kitchen and that’s when I see it.  Her hunting knife is dripping with blood and although the rational side of me knows it’s from whatever animal she has just hunted for our dinner, I feel an episode coming on.

 

My entire body goes rigid as it begins.

 

_She’s come to kill you._

No…Katniss would never hurt me, it’s the hijacking talking.  I urge it to stop, but it’s no use.

 

_Mutt!  Mutt!  Mutt!  She’s a murderous mutt!  See her knife?  See all of the blood dripping off of it? Your blood will be mixed with it soon._

I shut my eyes and cover my ears, as if I could stop the visions and the voices from clouding my mind.

 

“Peeta?  Are you okay?”

 

No, just leave me alone, don’t come any closer!  I silently try to warn her, but her concern is still etched on her face.

 

I try to voice my warning, but all that comes out is words poisoned by my episode.  “Stay away from me!  You…you filthy mutt!”

 

Her eyes fill with sadness at my outburst.  “Oh, Peeta…not real.  Not real.”

 

_She’s lying!  She’s a mutt and you know it!  Look at her!  Her knife is still in her hand, poised to kill!_

I’m able to temporarily shake the voice from my mind and speak to her.  “Katniss!  Leave!  I don’t want to hurt you!”

 

She doesn’t listen to me.  Instead, she advances towards me.  I scramble on the countertop for something to use as a weapon and come up with a rolling pin.

 

_Yeah, cause a rolling pin can really compete with the knife still in her hand.  She’s going to kill you!_

“I said leave!  Drop the knife and leave!”

 

She looks at her knife curiously for a moment before letting it clatter to the floor in a splatter of blood.  I expect her to listen to me, to run off back into the woods for a few hours until I know I am okay.

 

She shuffles forward again and before I can do anything else, wraps me into a strong hug.  “You won’t hurt me Peeta.”

 

_She’s trying to strangle you!  Get her!  Get her before it’s too late!_

I struggle to break free from the cage of her arms, but she holds me tighter, forcing the rolling pin out of my grasp.

 

“Let go!”  I pinch her arm and she draws back, suddenly angry at my behavior.  I register the rage on her face a split second before her hand slaps my cheek.  Hard.

 

The sudden, stinging pain seems to bring me back to reality.  The hijacking episode ends as abruptly as it begun.

 

“Katniss…I’m so sorry.”  I feel so bad about what just happened.  I hate when I lose control.

 

Her gray eyes search my blue ones.  I guess she is happy with what she sees there, because she smiles.  “You’re back.”

 

I nod and pull her close to me.  “The pain of the slap seemed to ground me back to reality.”

 

She smells like pine and dirt, and the scent is so _Katniss_ , that it warms my soul.  This woman, this amazing woman is still standing by me, even when I lose control, even when my episodes tell me to kill her.  She’s still my Katniss.

 

* * *

 

 

We settle into a routine of sorts.  Most mornings, I wake up early to bake fresh bread and pastries.  Waking up early has always been a part of my life, so I find it difficult to sleep past a certain time.  Katniss rises an hour or so after me, usually to go hunting or visit Greasy Sae and her granddaughter.

 

By the time she gets back, I have fresh pastries waiting for her and we eat lunch together.

 

The rest of the day varies.  Sometimes we eat alone, sometimes we invite Haymitch or Sae, and sometimes we are so caught up in our book that we almost forget to eat altogether. 

 

Much to my disappointment, we haven’t gone much further than kissing as of yet.  There are a few times when I find myself achingly hard in the middle of the night just thinking about Katniss and what it would be like to finally make love to her, but I would never force myself on her, never pressure her to go any further than she wished.

There was one time though, one time when we let our inhibitions go and our hands and mouths traveled, winding sensuous paths across each other’s bodies.  I felt the soft weight of her breasts in my hands for the first time, and who knows how far we would’ve gone if it weren’t for the sudden hesitation I saw in her eyes and the loud rumbling of our hungry stomachs.

 

I shake myself out of these thoughts, if it is meant to happen, it will happen.

 

It has been almost a year since my return to District 12 and my episodes and flashbacks are fading with time.  Ever since that day in the kitchen, Katniss knows that the sting of a slap almost always brings me back to reality.  And now I can feel them coming on and grip the back of a chair; the pressure and slight pain stopping the episode before it can even really start.

 

I’m just finishing with my baking for the day when I notice the time.  Katniss usually returns from her hunting trips between noon and one, but it is almost three now and she is still not home.

 

Panic floods my mind, immediately thinking of what might have happened to her.  She could be hurt or stranded in the forest with no one around to help her.

 

I need to find her.  Even if she just lost track of the time, I need to know that she is okay.

 

I change out of my apron and am out the door in a flash.  I have only been to the woods with Katniss a couple of times, but I will find my way to her, I’m determined. 

 

As soon as I hit the tree line, I call out to her. 

 

I stumble upon her not a quarter of a mile into the woods.  She is slumped on the ground in a fetal position and my heart lurches at the sight.  Her body is shaking even though it isn’t cold out and I know something awful must have happened.

 

I’m scared out of my mind that something is seriously wrong.  “Katniss?”

 

I lean down and see that her eyes are open, but they are bright red and inflamed.  Tear tracks mark her face and her hair sticks to her forehead.

 

“Katniss?  What happened?”

 

She finally looks at me, seemingly shocked that I am crouched down next to her in the woods.  “Peeta?”

 

She sounds so fragile, so lost.  “Yes, it’s me.”

 

I decide that I will ask her what happened when we get home. For right now, I just need to get her back.  I scoop her up into my arms, thankful that she isn’t too heavy, and carry her back through the woods.

 

Even with my prosthetic, I am strong enough again to keep her safe in my arms as I carry her home.  She buries her face in my shoulder and holds on to me tight, soiling my clothing.  I don’t care though; I just want her to be okay.

 

When I finally get her home, I strip off her jacket, empty hunting bag and boots.  She doesn’t say anything, just stands there with blank look on her face.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.  I’ll run a bath for you.”

 

Katniss nods her assent, and I help her up the stairs into the bathroom.  She sits idly on the toilet seat as I fill the tub with warm water and soap. 

 

“Umm…do you need help undressing?”  The thought of undressing her excites me in the most primal way, but that’s not what this is about.  This is about taking care of Katniss.

 

She blinks at me as if realizing that I’ve been here all along.  “Just help me with my shirt and pants, and I can manage the rest on my own.

 

I swallow hard and help her lift off her dark green shirt.  Her skin is a mosaic of burn marks, but still she is beautiful.

 

Her pants come next, dropping to the floor where she kicks them out of the way.

 

“I’ll be in the bedroom when you are all done if you need to talk or anything.”

 

“Okay.”

 

I close the door gently behind me as I make my way back to our room.  I still haven’t gotten any answers from Katniss and I’m hoping she will tell me what’s wrong.

 

Some time later, she walks into the room with only a towel wrapped around her slim body, her hair wet and dripping water droplets down her back.

 

I usher her in and she sits next to me on the bed.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

 

She looks away, biting her lip and sighs.  “It’s been a year.”

 

“A year?” 

 

She nods and turns back to me, her eyes filling up with unshed tears.  “It’s been a year since…since Prim died.”

 

I knew that it must be close to the anniversary of Prim’s death, but I was in no shape at the time to recall exactly what the date was when it happened.  No wonder Katniss is so upset.

 

I pull her into my arms and kiss her check.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

 

She sobs into my shoulder and I hold her closer, rubbing her back in a soothing manner.  “It just isn’t fair!”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

“No, it’s not fair that I get to live, that I get to grow older and she’s stuck in my memories as a young teen.  And…and, it’s not fair that I’m here starting to have fun and feel alive again and she will never get to ever again.”

 

I kiss her cheek again, trying to find the words to comfort her.  It’s obvious that she needs reassurance that she can live and that she can enjoy her life, even when her sister is gone.  I gently lift her chin so that she is looking at me.  “Katniss, Prim wouldn’t want you to wallow in misery over her.  She would want you to move on with your life, to enjoy your youth and feel free.”

 

Katniss chokes on a sob.  “I…I just miss her so much!”

 

“It’s okay to miss her and remember her, but you still need to live.  Don’t punish yourself for her death; instead, work to make everyday a good one, in her honor.”

 

She nods.  “Will you help me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Katniss and I try to make every day count.  We laugh together, play together, and enjoy the little moments that life brings us.

 

We are all ready to go to sleep one night when I can tell Katniss has something on her mind.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

She rolls over and gives me a heart-melting smile that causes my breath to hitch in my throat.  “Yes, and…well I’ve been thinking….”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah, and you’re right.  I like that we are trying to make every day count now, I like that we can laugh again and have fun.  We are young, and we should act like it while we still can.”

 

I’m happy she agrees with me, but I’m not sure why she picked this particular moment to bring this up to me.  “What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that I realized something the other day.  I realized that it’s you, and it always was going to be you.  You are the one that I want, that I _need_.  I’m sorry, I’m not good with words like you are, but I wanted you to know how much I care about you.”

 

I’m a bit confused at her words.  I know she cares about me, but is there something more implied here?  “Katniss…what?”

 

She leans forward suddenly and presses her lips to mine.  I’m still not sure what is happening, but I’m all too happy to kiss her back.  I get lost in the feel of her mouth moving against mine, her tongue tangling with my own.  I’m so lost that I don’t realize what is happening until she is tearing at my clothes like a wild animal. 

 

She rids me of my clothing quickly and hers follow shortly afterward.  We are naked, panting and flushed with the fever of desire.

 

We both know where this is leading, know that we can never turn back after this. 

 

“Are you sure?”  My voice is nothing but a whisper, skating its way across her shoulder to her ear.

 

“Yes,” she answers just as softly.

 

I take my time to worship her body, painting it like a canvas with my fingertips and mouth.  She moans into my ear, a song filled with passion.

 

When we are finally joined together, I struggle to stay still while she gets accustomed to the intrusion.  Her breathy voice tells me when she is ready.

 

We make love, slowly at first, wanting to remember every moment of our skin touching, our bodies as one.  I can’t stop kissing her, watching her face, locking eyes with her.

 

It gets hurried towards the end, but I make sure I don’t miss the radiance on her face when she climaxes, my own shuddering through me a moment later.

 

After, we lie there together, happy and sated.  But I can’t help but to ask her one more question.

 

“You love me.  Real or Not Real?”

 

She doesn’t hesitate for one moment before telling me.  “Real.”

 

Tonight, we are young and we deserve to be happy.

 

 

 

 

**The End.**


End file.
